


Chances Are...

by rosethorngirl



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bruce Is Hopelessly In Love With Clark, Bruce Needs to Be Protected, Don't Judge Me, First POV Bruce, Humor, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I should have tagged this earlier but - LOTS of language, Like we don't have enough red buttons for all the cuss words, M/M, Non Batman Bruce, OOC Bruce, Sorry Not Sorry, Tony Has All The Answers (TM), Tony Stark/Bruce Wayne Friendship Later, Trying for a romcom here, Wake the EFF UP Clark, haven't decided if this should just be M or not, injured Bruce, stay tuned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-17 02:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10584087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosethorngirl/pseuds/rosethorngirl
Summary: "I'm just a realistic man. A bottle filled with shells and sand. Afraid to love beyond what I can lose when it comes to you." - Chances Are by Five For FightingWhat if...Bruce's parents were never murdered. He grew up normally. They died instead in his adulthood but not in Gotham: in a hang gliding accident while on vacation. He never became Batman and never had to act like a dumb socialite. Instead, he was kidnapped by the Joker at age 31 and tortured until Clark (who is still Superman) saved him. He lost partial mobility in his right leg and has several scars on his chest, legs, and back but otherwise he's fine...except, well...he's sorta in love with Clark. Not Superman like Lois Lane, but Clark Kent. The kid from Kansas. He's now 34 and hopeless about his feelings. He uses his technology and smarts to help the Justice League covertly in intelligence briefing and gathering. Overall, his life isn't terrible...until Lex Luthor shows back up in his life. Oh Brother. Here we go.





	1. Chapter 1

You know, some days I really hate my life.

Sounds funny considering that’s essentially every day at varying degrees. However on days like today, when one Clark Kent – Daily Planet reporter by trade and Superman by self righteous choice – is standing across the room being chatted up by the likes of Stephanie Kowalski (“- by the oldest family owned English carpenter company, Kowalskis.”) in this shit show of a benefit gala, I guess you could say my hate for my life ratchets up a few hundred notches. Still yet, here I am, in that very situation thinking and planning all of the ways I’d like to choke her with her own hair extensions; and there Clark is, eating up her attention like the giant fucking adorably oblivious meatball that he is.

I sigh to myself and stare down at my untouched glass of champagne. Who am I kidding? Clark and I have known each other for three years now and other than business as usual friends’ stuff and me chipping in with his League stuff, he barely recognizes me as an attractive, available person that exists. To him, I’m always going to be the guy he met in the claws of the Joker that was too scared to defend himself. Hell, I bet he only sticks around me because he knows I’m a magnet for the nefarious plot of the week.

Grumbling quietly to myself I take a small sip and grimace at the taste. I’m not a huge fan of alcohol on the whole, which is why I have never been one to overindulge. But that has become especially true since my unfortunate…incident, if you can rightly call it that. I glance down myself and tap my cane a little, feeling my face start to heat in shame. Best not get bogged down in nightmares with a crowd of high society snobs around.

I glance back at Clark and almost bark a bitter laugh. Oh look, isn’t that sweet? She’s touching his arm; and Mr. Boy Scout is standing there ultra professional with his reporter notepad, writing furiously while fully engaging in whatever half coherent thing she’s feeding him. 

Barf. 

I turn away and scan the rest of the room. 

Almost every important person from the whole East Coast is here. Oliver Queen in the corner on a couch with a few businessmen, a few Senators, several celebrities, Tony Stark and what appears to be some blonde beefcake, and nobody of any real interest for me. 

What a waste of an evening.

I only agreed to come because Clark was concerned he wouldn’t get anyone to agree to speak with him for his article Perry is making him write. My eyes stray back to Clark once again (surprise, surprise) who has put his pad down and appears to be saying his goodbyes and thanking Stephanie. I sigh again. I wish Clark didn’t see me as just – well…I look down my expensive suit and at my legs.  
…as just that guy he wasn’t fast enough to save. 

He startles me by tapping my elbow and I look up at him, smiling as tightly as I can. “Hey, did you get your info?”

He blows a gust of air out of his lips and I notice with some amusement a few small icicles appearing on his suit jacket.

“What I learned is that Miss Kowalski has absolutely no idea what she’s doing here besides the free Cristal, or what publically funded recreational centers for troubled youth do for the community.” He takes a glass of water as it passes by, pulling a long swig before grinning at me. “And that the perfume she was wearing is probably made up of at least ten percent animal piss.”

I bark a laugh. “You’re lying.”

“Nope,” he chuckles brightly. “Super smell remember?” He taps his nose with a smirk as I continue chuckling. “The whole time she was talking all I could think about was what poor creature they got it from and how they don’t deserve to be represented in such a poor fashion.”

Smiling sincerely now, I shake my head filled with affection yet again for this fucking adorable meatball. “You’re a mess, Clark.”

He bumps my shoulder with his elbow and says wryly, “Maybe, but I’m your mess, Mr. Wayne.”

Oh, Clark. If only you were.

Suddenly feeling off balance, I look down at my champagne glass and say with an affected air of confidence, “I don’t remember agreeing to that. Was that in the fine print of our friendship agreement, Mr. Kent?”

He chuckles heartily, “Yes, under the terms and conditions in fine print. Next to the paragraph that reminds you to feed and water me.”

I smirk but hold in my retort. Instead, I change gears and ask the question that’s been bothering me all evening. “So not that I mind being your stand in date for the evening but why isn’t Lois here? Isn’t she supposed to be your partner in crime these days?”

And wasn’t that a kick in the ass having to kill the mood by bringing up his…well…whatever Lois has decided they are this week. I wish I could just tell Clark how she didn’t appreciate him. (Not like how I would appreciate him. Oh god, how I would.) But that would mean I’d have to break our silent agreement to not comment on his rather unhealthy arrangement with her after I made that mistake once before. 

And I don’t want to do that and risk losing him, because I know he wouldn’t pick me if push came to shove.

“At the Planet, sure,” he replies with just enough easiness you could almost miss the melancholy. He takes another long sip from his water and shrugs. “Perry has us working on something about a power plant in Jersey. We haven’t gotten very far yet. She’s busy, though tonight. Had to visit her cousin who’s pregnant again.”

I nod in understanding. She’s “busy” was Lois speak for I don’t have time for you. I felt myself shuffling again and glanced at my cane letting myself scowl at it.

There were days like today that I really hate my life.

But those days were nothing compared to days like today where I’m reminded that the singular focus of my universe would rather chase after a woman who treats him like an accessory whenever he’s useful than even look at me like I could maybe make him happy. I’m the broken, tag along, billionaire friend he saved that sometimes helps him by using my advanced Wayne Industries issued servers to help track down threats for the League…and also as stand in dates when he’s been frozen out of bed by his girlfriend. 

And I’m entirely pathetic because I continue to put up with it because…well because it’s Clark. Which I guess is the answer for him and Lois. He puts up with Lois and her mood swings because it’s…Lois.

I just wish I was somebody’s Lois.

“Hey,” He bumps my shoulder again, and I glance up sharply. “Where’d you go?”

I force a smile and say, “I was just thinking about maybe getting out of here and seeing about some burgers…if you have enough for your article?”

He smiles brightly, “Sounds fantastic. Let’s go.”

We both turn to leave before I’m nearly knocked over by the bane of my existence: Lex Luthor.

“Brucie!” He says exuberantly. 

I don’t hide my grunt of annoyance. “Luthor.”

“What in all of the good green earth are you doing here?” But he’s looking at Clark as he says it, which irritates me and I’m not sure why. “And with this fine specimen of masculine perfection. Hello, there.”

Clark smiles so tightly it’s a near grimace. “Hi. I’m Clark-…”

“…-Kent! Yes. I’ve read your articles.”

I take a rather large sip of my champagne to cover my eye roll. My god. How can one tiny sprite of a man be the single most annoying person to have ever lived? Swallowing harshly, I basically growl out, “We were just about to leave, Luthor.”

“Going so soon?” He turns his head and affects the most poorly acted look of disappointment I’ve ever seen as he says in a bemoaning voice, “Oh how sad and I was hoping you would be willing to interview me, Mr. Kent. Perhaps we can schedule a one on one for some other time, hmm?”

Clark glances at me from the corner of his eye before giving a somewhat obviously hesitant nod. “Sure, Mr. Luthor. I’d be delighted to.”

“You’d be delighted. Such a southern gentlemen!” He grins like a shark having caught their pray and I grip my cane just a little tighter for it. “And please call me Lex. I do believe you and I will have a lot to discuss, Mr. Kent.”

Clark gives a half smile and takes a small half step closer to my elbow, I nearly crow with joy. “You can call me Clark then. And I look forward to the opportunity.”

“Splendid! Well enjoy your evening boys!” And with that he trounces off in his usual Luthor fashion as I silently seethe.

Clark touches my elbow to lead me along and I let my body move on autopilot to the valet. While waiting for the limo Clark looks at me very seriously and I know the questions are just about to begin so I head them off. “Don’t, Clark.”

“Don’t what? I didn’t say anything.”

I huff. “Your face said everything.”

It was his turn to huff. “You really don’t want to tell me what that was about?”

“Not particularly,” I grunt. “And I’d appreciate it if you’re busy for the next solid forever and you never have time to talk to him, as well.”

Clark sighs with obvious disapproval. “Bruce.”

“He’s trouble, Clark.” That makes him stand a little straighter and I nearly laugh out loud. “Not that kind of trouble, boy scout. He’s an annoying piece of shit, but he’s not a worldwide threat.”

Clark scowls at me. “Why is he an annoying piece of shit?”

“Well gee, we don’t have time to discuss all the words in the English language tonight. Rain check?”

“Bruce!” Clark says with a little more intensity.

I glare at him for an entire second and then sag a little just as the limo pulls up. He opens the door for me and after we’re situated in the car I sigh and say reluctantly and with no shortness of embarrassment, “He fucked my ex boyfriend.”

Clark nearly choked on his own saliva. “He – what?”

“He fucked my ex, ok?” I growl. “He’s an annoying, entitled, demimondaine. And an asshole.”

Clarks gawks at me for a second. “You - …”

“What?” I squint at him.

“I guess I just…huh.”

I roll my eyes at that point. “Yes, Clark. I’m capable of pettiness.”

“No, not…that.” He looks at me a little wide eyed with a strange glint in his eye that made me squirm a little. 

“Then what?” I ask a little impatiently.

“You have an ex boyfriend?”

It was my turn to gawk and also to hide the hurt at the surprise in the statement. “I wasn’t always dysfunctional in my leg, Clark Kent. I’ll have you know I used to be rather attractive and men found me pleasing to look at…”

“No! I mean…” he cuts me off a little desperately. “…you’re gay?”

It was my turn to widen my eyes. “Bisexual. How did you not know that?”

“Well it’s not like it’s public information, and it’s never come up before I guess.” He replies defensively.

I think on it for a minute and realize he is correct. I’ve never told him. And here I thought I was being obvious in my panting after him.

“Oh,” I say stupidly for lack of anything better to say.

We’re halfway to the mansion before I realize we never told the driver to take us to In n Out, but by then it’s too late anyways. I’ve lost my appetite. I decide to change the subject to something safe because I can’t stand the silence anymore.

“Are you going to just change at the mansion then and head out or-…”

“Yeah! Sure. Sounds…good.” He finishes flatly.

I feel my eyes start to burn. Jesus. For some reason I feel like I did something wrong, and I don’t even understand what. And as I watch him fly out in his spare uniform from my bedroom window I get the sinking feeling I’m about to lose the center of my universe completely, and I’m going to be left without any sun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For this, let's assume that after the events that left Bruce with lesser mobility in his leg, Diana out of concern befriended him and began training him as a sort of physio therapy/self defense class. And she is dating Alfred here because for some reason, the new iteration that I see in the BvS movie really seems like that could be a possibility. Idk why but Jeremy Irons is kind of dreamy, okay? This is rather short but I wanted to make sure I posted this today. Maybe more soon.

You know how when you know you’re way out of your depth you get that tingly, bottomless feeling in your stomach and your fingers go a little numb just thinking about how out of your depth you are? Well, that’s kind of been how I feel for the last three years of my life since meeting Clark and his gang of heroes that call themselves the Justice League. 

Tingly. Bottomless. 

And no end in sight for how tingly and bottomless I’m going to feel as we meet yet another super powered force of nature. Like my friend Diana Prince for example…

“Oompf,” I grunt as my back meets the floor abruptly. “Aha ow. Jesus, Di.”

Diana Prince, Princess of the Amazonians and demigoddess of the Greek gods. No one knows exactly how old she is but she assumes it’s close to two thousand or so years. She’s virtually indestructible with powers granted her by the Greek gods of legend, and she’s about five feet nine inches of sass and sarcasm in her beautiful Mediterranean accent waiting to cut your where you stand before physically doing it with her sword.

She grins down at me with a little huff of exertion. “You’re too easy, Bruce.”

“Well forgive me for being a mere mortal.” I slowly start to roll over and grimace as my muscles pull and grunt again in pain at the soreness in my bad leg. “I’m not exactly cut out to be knocked around the same way as you.”

Diana grins at me amused and extends a hand to pull me to standing rather forcibly. I groan again and glare at her. “That’s utter nonsense,” she chuckles. “You men and your weaknesses until you’re fighting for something trivial like sex or turf. Or football.” She says with a scrunched nose and obvious distaste. “Then suddenly you’re strong enough to lift a truck onto your back while doing a mating call and drink an entire jug of your piss water ‘beer.’”

I give her my most befuddled expression as I try to get my breathing under control. “You have some weird ideas about humans.”

“Human men,” she corrects and turns to the small table I have in my basement here at the manor and grabs my water bottle. She thrusts it at me unforgivingly and sits elegantly on the stool as if she wasn’t just making me eat my mat a second ago. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

I avoid her gaze and say as easily as I can, “There’s nothing bothering me. Other than the fact that you find my butler attractive.” I limp to the other stool and huff a relieved breath as I sit and take the weight off my leg.

She laughs and shakes her head at me, not in the least bit convinced I can tell. That’s the problem with Diana; she’s so fucking wise. I can’t get away with anything between her and Alfred. When you add Dick to the mix you might as well sign my death certificate.

“Of course there is nothing bothering you,” she smirks knowingly and gives me her typical piercing gaze. I avoid eye contact as much as I can, knowing full well she can still read me like a book. “You just enjoy letting me hurt you.”

I scoff and take a big drink of my water before swallowing slowly. “No, you enjoy hurting me. I simply let you because otherwise I might be more injured by trying to not get injured. Furthermore, I have a bum leg!” I point down to said bum leg with indignation. “What do you expect? Me to Chuck Norris the shit out of you?” I make vague fisticuffs for good measure.

“You leave with your faculties still in tact despite your lack of training. I train you the same as I would train any fledgling warrior,” she smiles at me then a more subdued expression overcomes her face. “Alfred is worried for you. Clark came here last night and didn’t bother to say hello after your date.”

I look at her in shock, “It wasn’t a date!”

“So you wore your most form fitting suit, made a point to conceal your dark circles and even wore a light coat of mascara to make your eyelashes darker and your eyes more pronounced because it was just an evening with a friend?”

I met her dark, humor filled eyes with no small amount of embarrassment and say nothing. The fact is she already has it all figured out anyways; I don’t need to say anything. So I simply sag my shoulders and pick at the invisible lint on my bad leg, trying to not say something defensive.

“Bruce,” she says with a little more warmth and a touch of concern in her voice. “Why don’t you talk to him?”

I shake my head at her, “He has Lois and anyways he just found out last night I’m bi and that’s what made him stop talking to me rather abruptly.”

It was her turn to widen her eyes in shock. “Certainly not.”  
I nod sadly. “Yeah. Unfortunately.”

“Clark is not homophobic,” she says rather forcefully. “He can’t be.”

My sadness turning to mild irritation, I grunt, “And you know this why?”

“Because he’s told me that he is bisexual.”

I nearly choke on my own saliva. She pats my back and I look at her completely thrown off guard.

“You’re fucking with me,” I growl. 

She shakes her head and crosses her legs. “No. I know because I was discussing with him life on Themyscira, and how it’s just an accepted necessity for women to be with other women. My first sexual experience was with another woman, for example. But there it wasn’t even thought about because there are no men to be spoken of.”

I think on the implications of this revelation and purposely don’t imagine my gorgeous friend who’s dating my butler with another woman. Nope. Not going to do it.

“And what?” I say doubtfully. “He just comes out and says ‘Oh, neato! I swing both ways too!’? Right, Di.”

She chuckles. “Not precisely, no. Yet that was the end result of the conversation.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, that’s fucking wonderful then. So he’s not put off that I like cock, he’s put off because I might like his cock. It’s much more personal than a revulsion to my sexual preferences.” She smacks my shoulder and I yelp glaring at her. “Ow! What the –…”

“Stop it, Bruce,” she says firmly. “He isn’t ‘put off’ by you. Maybe he is simply surprised.”

“Clark wouldn’t just stop talking to me because he’s surprised. He didn’t stop talking to you after you told him about you, did he?” She bites off whatever she’s about to say and I smirk bitterly. “Right. Thanks.”

A silence stretches between us for a few minutes. I can practically feel Diana fuming on her stool as she thinks of all things she wants to call me. Eventually I roll my eyes and stand slowly, grunting at the newly reinstated pain in my bad leg. And like a ton of bricks tiredness settles over my shoulders and I feel a depression begin to curl in my chest. Why would Clark want me to be looking at him sexually when I’m like this? He doesn’t want a broken toy that can’t properly defend itself or even walk a fucking flight of stairs without a lot of effort.

I’m not exactly a partner to be proud of.

I reach for my cane that’s leaning against the table and begin walking toward the elevator. “Thanks for the session, Di,” I sigh and push the up button.

“You’re wrong, Bruce,” She says firmly and with no hint of indecision. “Clark would want to know your feelings if we know him in any capacity.”

I shake my head and step into the elevator. “Why would he want someone like me, Diana? Answer me that and I’ll think about telling him.”

As the doors close, I see Diana glaring at the floor like it’s personally offended her and I can only imagine what anger unleashes once they officially shut.

~C&B~

I’m in my office when Alfred comes in to deliver my lunch. I smile at him as best as I can and look back at my monitors that are doing dual purposes of being open to Word as I write some Wayne Industries proposals and running data analysis for the League on asteroid dust that was found near a reactor that we’ve – no, right, nearly forgot – they’ve been charged with keeping an eye on.

Alfred immediately busies himself with cleaning up old water glasses and straightening papers. I know exactly what’s coming which is why I am not at all surprised when he eventually hums and tries not obviously glance at me out of the corner of his eye.

Sighing, I stop typing and look at him. “Go ahead, Alfred.”

“Whatever do you mean, sir?” he replies innocently and opens one of the books on the side table next to my over stuffed chair.

I pick up one of the zucchini chips and pop them in my mouth, unconcerned. “Surely you don’t expect me to play twenty questions. You want to know what happened with Clark.”

“No,” he scoffed. “I know full well what happened.”

I nod expecting as much. “Then…what?”

“Oh do stop acting like a prat, Bruce.” He grumps and sits on the chair primly. “You are far sharper than the average tack.”

“Was that a compliment?” I smirk and pick up half of my turkey and Havarti, taking a big bite.

He grumbles, “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re an utter imbecile, and I can say that with the utmost authority since I had a major hand in raising your shortsighted, defiant, stubborn arse.”

I grin at him for the first time today in complete sincerity; that was ‘Alfred speak’ for I love you, and it made me very happy to hear.

“Bruce,” he sighs and claps his hands together. “You sell yourself so short. You’re such a bright young man. Since your accident you don’t go out nearly as much. I haven’t seen you go on a date in years.” I roll my eyes as I eat more zucchini chips. “I’m…concerned for you. Not worried, per se, since I know you have a good head about your shoulders and you have a sixteen year old that worships the ground you walk on. But must you let yourself be forever in waiting for a man who is not only currently taken but also so unappreciative of you that when you reveal your true self they cut you off?”

I groan around another bite of my sandwich. “Alfred.”

His steely eyes sharpen a little at me. “No, I’m entirely serious, son!”

“Alfred,” I reply in a placating tone, “there’s nothing going to happen between me and Clark. You’re right. He’s taken.” I pick up a zucchini chip and say in a wistful voice, “And doesn’t even know I exist like that.”

“Bugger that,” Alfred snorts. “That boy is arse over melon for you even if he isn’t aware of it. That’s not my concern. My concern is what happens when he does.”

I look at him in confusion, “What do you mean?”

He mulls over in his head his words and then shakes it before standing. “Never mind, my boy. Maybe this old nose needs to remain in its own business for this. You are an adult after all.”

I shake my head at him, “You wouldn’t butt out if your life depended on it, Alfred.”

He gives me a strange look before leaving out the study doors, and I barely hear his mumbled, “My fear is it might.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, leave a kudos/comment! It's been a long fucking time since I posted anything. I've just been going through some hard shit but hopefully I can sit on myself to get this story out there! I appreciate any feedback you can give me!


End file.
